He let out a self-deprecating laugh, but I could see the truth in it. This was his origin. This was why a son of a religious house had aspired to be a Hero in the first place.
My father had always possessed an aura that felt like the absolute zenith of the Light Side. If he had been a Force-user, he would have been a paragon of the Jedi Council. Hearing him speak only solidified that conviction.
"So," he said, a gentle, slightly troubled smile playing on his lips. "I'd like to help that girl if we can. She hasn't actually done anything yet, right? So... why not give it a try?"
His ideal was, perhaps, too grand. In the real world, he had likely failed more often than he succeeded. It might even be an impossible dream. But it was a beautiful one.
To prevent a crime not through force or the restriction of freedom, but by healing the heart. If that could reduce the suffering in the world, then it was a method full of peace and harmony.
"Yes," I replied, the words coming to me with surprising ease. "I'd like to try that, too."
Life, however, rarely follows a perfect script. Despite my resolve, months passed without me finding a single opening to approach Toga. The gap between our grade levels made contact difficult; our middle school even housed the third-years in a separate building. I couldn't just wander into their wing to find a total stranger without raising suspicion.
Before I knew it, graduation day had arrived.
It might sound like an excuse, but I had only committed to this course of action in early February. I'd had less than a month to find an opportunity, and it simply never came.
Until now.
I was only a first-year, but because of my grade-skipping, I would be a third-year come spring. I was seated among the second-year students as part of the farewell delegation. The ceremony itself was unremarkable—a far cry from the solemnity of a Jedi Knighting ceremony.
I knew today was my last chance. The moment the ceremony ended, I slipped away from the cleanup crew and headed for the exit to intercept Toga.
Then, the Force screamed.
The shroud of the Dark Side around Toga didn't just grow; it exploded. I felt the shift instantly. Abandoning all pretense of a normal walk, I sprinted toward her position.
Thanks to the combination of my Quirk and the Force, my physical capabilities were far beyond those of a normal child. I managed to reach her and step into her path before she could do whatever it was she was planning.
"?"
Toga stopped, tilting her head slightly. The gesture was small, almost like a bird or a kitten. On a girl as pretty as she was, it should have been adorable. But the smile on her face was more artificial than ever. Her "mask of normalcy" wasn't just slipping; it was shattering.
The mask could break. I didn't care about that. But I couldn't let her take the final step—the step into the abyss. Once a person consciously chooses to surrender to the Dark, the way back is nearly impossible to find.
"Toga-san. What are you planning to do?"
"...?"
"With that cutter and the straw you're hiding. What were you about to do with them?"
She stiffened. Her body went rigid as a board. She tried to recover her composure instantly, but the momentary tremor in her presence gave her away. If I hadn't spent a lifetime sensing the shifts in the Force, I might have missed it. Her mimicry was almost perfect—a testament to how many years she had spent killing her true self.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
"It's no use hiding it. I can sense the shape of your thoughts. Right now... you have an overwhelming urge to taste Saito-kun's blood, don't you? You want to cut his throat and use that straw to... slurp."
"...!"
She was close enough now that her distress acted as a beacon for the Force. I usually can't read minds with such clarity, but her current emotional turbulence made the impossible possible for a split second.
Toga froze again. This time, she didn't try to hide it. Her expression went flat, her eyes turning cold and predatory. She lunged at me.
The cutter in her hand caught the sunlight from the hallway window, a dull, silver gleam. She moved with no hesitation—a predator closing in on its prey. The mask was gone.
But it wasn't too late. She hadn't hurt anyone yet.
And I was a Jedi.